The Old Lady Next Door

I brought the old lady next door cookies as a thank you for her shovelling my driveway.

True, she was 80ish and I was mid 50s, but she was vigorous, athletic, and lean. I had run to seed, adding a spare tire as my various health issues piled up. These days it took dynamite to get me out of the house. My neighbour on the other hand always seemed to be headed somewhere.

Of course, when I brought the cookies over, she offered me a cup of tea. Would have been rude to refuse.

I sat at her kitchen table, sipping the hot beverage, unable to start a conversation. My eyes roved the kitchen to avoid meeting hers.

"Are you a realtor, or are you thinking about whether the table or the counter would be a better spot to lick my pussy?"

That got my attention. I spurted tea into the air.

My hostess got up and went to get a cloth to wipe up the mess. Despite the loss of libido due to illness and anti-depressants, I felt my cock twitch as I realized she had a very nice ass for an old lady. Check that. A very nice ass, period. I wished I could fuck that ass. If only I could get erect.

"Does looking at my ass make you hard?" she giggled as she sat back at the table.

"Nothing makes me hard anymore."

This conversation was taking an odd turn.

"But your tongue and fingers still work don't they?"

"I suppose. Haven't tried using them on a woman in years."

"Well, I appreciate the cookies, but would prefer a more lively thank you for shovelling for you. If you're good at it, maybe I'll cut your grass in the summer."

I swallowed my tea to buy time. This conversation was definitely strange.

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't wish once in a while to get off on something other than my toys. My late husband, rest his soul, was a great and adventuresome lover. I miss him."

"How long has it been?"

"Too long. But not that long- he lived to a ripe old age. By the time he died, it was hard to find anyone as much fun. I picked up a few guys from the senior center, and even tried the bar scene, but nothing satisfied me."

"So, thank god for toys?"

"Even they were more fun when hubby was around to share them. Although nothing beat threesomes. Except maybe foursomes or moresomes. I miss those almost as much as I miss him. None of the guys I picked up were up for that sort of fun."

"Just not the same?"

My treacherous cock was throbbing now. If it could get stiff, it would be rock hard.

"Just not period. No one likes a good adventure anymore. That's why when you checked out my kitchen, I regretted that you weren't checking out my ass." She sighed. "Sorry if I shocked you, thanks for the cookies."

"Which do YOU like better- the counter or the table?"

Where did THAT come from?

"Neither is a perfect height for fucking- the table is too low; the counter is too high. The table was great for anal, but the counter is better to get my pussy eaten- hubby did not have far to lean over, did not strain his back."

"None of your pickups tried either?"

"I haven't been properly eaten since he died."

"I haven't tasted a woman in far too long."

Where did THAT come from?

Somehow without my noticing she had undone a few buttons on her plain conservative blouse. She was not endowed with an excess of cleavage, but the pretty lace bra peeking out from the gap made my mouth water. Always had a thing for sexy lingerie.

Her eyes saw where I was staring. Her lips spread into a wide grin. My hand of its own volition put down the teacup and inched toward the treat. I had to focus consciously to stop from rising up right then and reaching across the table. Even more than eating pussy, I loved nipples- playing with them, gnawing them, exploring the texture.

She giggled, more like a teen than a senior citizen.

"The counter it is then."

She did not wait for me to deny my willingness. Tugging the shirt free from her jeans, she stood, rapidly undoing the few remaining buttons. I was vaguely aware she was stepping out of her pants- my eyes were fixed on the better view of her bra and the modest tits inside of it. Like so many women with modest breasts, her rubbery points seemed to get erect easily.

My brain registered that she was wearing a front loader. That made me smile. Back in the day, I had been proficient at undoing clasps, but being out of practice, the easier opening was appreciated. But my brain was getting ahead of itself.

Leaning over the corner of the table, she grasped my paw in her delicate liver spotted hand. I was vaguely aware of being tugged up from my chair, but my attention was riveted on the valley between her tits, fully exposed within the bra now that the shirt was open.

She backed up near the counter before shucking the leggings that had pooled around her feet.

"Lift me up, lover."

"Kiss first?"

Her hands found my cheeks as she chuckled lustily.

Our lips met. A shiver ran down my spine. Her tongue pushed past my lips. My mouth automatically opened just enough to welcome the invasion. I thought I could feel my heart beating then I realized that it was hers.

She ran just the tip of her tongue along my teeth as her hands explored my body. Every cell in my body quivered. Our tongues touched. It was like electricity exploded in my brain. If I could ejaculate, I would have.

Her breasts had no doubt at one time been magnificent. Now, sprung loose from their support they sagged, not sadly but defiantly. The nipples spoke of her lust, her experience, her excellence, poking out like a pair of thumbs from the wrinkled areolae. But she was slim, her flesh did not sag on her belly or hips. Her pubic hair was not bushy. She responded with kittenish mewing as I stroked her flanks and teased her navel.

My hands gripped her tight old ass and lifted. As soon as she hit the granite countertop, my fingers grasped the lace panties and, with her cooperation, tugged them off. That gave me a better view of her pubic hair, which was trimmed into a neat landing strip. Her labia were swollen, a bright purple, contrasting perfectly with her pale flesh.

I began to kiss down her body, slowly, as my thumbs stroked those nether lips. My tongue trailed along her neck to the "celery salt" spot at the top of her rib cage. I played there for a moment, furling my tongue, and teasing before sliding it out first to one shoulder point, and then the other. At each end of that journey, I made sure to nibble the flesh. This made her moan and squirm.

My thumbs were grazing her inner labia. She moved her knees, tilting her pelvis, her body begging for my lips. I licked down to her belly button. Carefully, I paid attention to it as I thrust the first fingers into her slit.

"Stop teasing. Fuck me with that tongue."

Her sparse pubes tickled my beard as I proceeded, resisting her urging, proceeding deliberately. The more her anticipation built, the harder she writhed. Her aroma perfumed the kitchen. I shifted along her body, lips meeting lips of another sort.

If you expect me to complain that she was musty and dusty, you will be disappointed. Maybe it was the anticipation, but her juices were flowing, musky not musty.

I had to taste her immediately, so I dipped my tongue into her gash and sampled her goodness. My fingers were still playing at her opening, so she wriggled beneath me.

Her moans turned to groans. My free hand roamed up her flank and found a nipple. Grasping it tightly in my fingers, I pulled it away from the body of her breast until her groan turned into a gasp. That was the moment that I found her clit. First, I just tasted it, teasing with the tip of my tongue.

"Fuck me with that tongue. Fuck me like you love me."

Dancing my tongue around the base of her pearl, I continued to tease her. Then I kissed that rosebud, flicking my tongue across it as my lips met that tenderest flesh. And it was tender- age had not toughened her flesh.

"I haven't been this wet in this century," she cried out.

It was a good thing she lived alone, because we would have attracted the attention of anybody in her house. As it was, I prayed that the mailman was not passing by at that moment. Mind you, our mail at that time was delivered by a pert but attractive young woman, but that would be another story.

I struggled to swallow as much of her syrup as possible, continuing to probe with tongue and digits to help her achieve an over arching climax.

'Will she never finish?' I wondered. I furiously fingered her flesh, trying to force her to fulfillment. The electricity generated by my tongue on her clit fueled our passions.

"I love what you do to me." She groaned.

My body shook from the excitement we shared. I explored her flesh with my free hand, teasing a nipple, touching her navel. Her body tensed briefly at that moment, and I wondered whether the massive explosion I sensed was contained within her would occur.

She seemed to respond by working her fingers into my hair, making fists and pushing my face harder against her flesh.

Then I started stroking her thighs from hip to knee and back again. In response, she began bucking her hips up from the counter, pressing her pearl powerfully against my mouth.

"More," she moaned, as if it had been years- decades even- since she had released the desire from her loins and had a well of energy in her womb that needed to gush out like an oil well.

I shifted my hand, thrusting the edge of my fingers deep into her cunt, building the tempo with each plunge. It was a struggle to keep my tongue in contact with her dancing clit, but I proved up to the task. I could feel her body vibrating.

The vibrations grew in intensity as she went silent. I wondered briefly if I had prolonged the moment too long. As if in response, she pushed my face even harder against her flesh.

"Fuuuuuuck," she screamed, tensing momentarily before she finally exploded into a climax that spilled me backwards. Since we were still connected, she tumbled down onto my body, still gasping for breath. I held her in my arms until the last aftershock quaked.

Then her kitchen was silent.

She slid off of my body, staying so close that I could feel her breath on my nipples. My cock was stiff again. She watched me glance down.

"I see that you still want to fuck me. That's good, but let's wait until tomorrow. Bring muffins."

I turned to her back door. As I was about to leave, I heard her add, "And Tuesday bring a pound cake if you want to fuck my ass."